


heart so fierce

by Kulkuri



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BB-8 is precious, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fights, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Finn (Star Wars), Hurt Poe Dameron, Jessika is a good friend, M/M, Making Up, Mutual Pining, Personal Growth, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Rescue Missions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:22:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22745476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kulkuri/pseuds/Kulkuri
Summary: After Jessika's squadron gets struck down by a tropical storm, Poe doesn't hesitate to throw himself into Black One and attempt a rescue op. But as the hurricane gets progressively stronger, Poe finds himself barely able to keep his fighter stable and airborne.With his earlier fight with Finn still lingering in his mind, Poe does his best to get their friends back safe and sound, wishing he'll be able to mend things with Finn afterwards.All he has to do is get back to base. Whichhe willif the raging storm doesn't swallow him up first.***
Relationships: BB-8 & Poe Dameron, Finn & Rose Tico, Poe Dameron & Jessika Pava, Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 10
Kudos: 52





	heart so fierce

Harsh wind rips through the base, the storm descending progressively stronger. It rattles windows, slipping through the cracks of doors, swirling into whatever crevice it can get into.

Poe sighs, rubbing at his eyes. The howling and banging of the hurricane rages outside, making it difficult to concentrate. He's been stuck in the conference room for hours.

Finn and Rose have been trying to work out details for a supply run to Naboo. A shipment composed just for the Resistance’s needs is ready to be collected, but the finicky details of the  _ route  _ are yet to be hashed out. 

Poe thinks the excursion should be a more discreet, subdued affair. 

The leaders of the First Order are down, yes. Kylo Ren and Snoke and what they represented have died, but the ideology, the propaganda they've stirred in their lifetime still have support. Their troops, their commanding officers in locations they've yet to have uncovered are alive. Still plotting, scheming right under their noses, trying to keep alive the legacy which all dark supreme leaders have bestowed upon them.

A single Resistance cargo ship flying without entourage or means to protect itself is just screaming _ ‘shoot me down and show the world the First Order still thrives!’  _

Not that anyone seems to agree with him. Which he thinks is the problem.

Finn and Rose think that hiding right now would be irresponsible. That the Resistance must show their strength, their victory, by leading as an example. The galaxy is no longer under the rule of a dark iron fist. It's safe to travel without fear of First Order ambushes.

And as it is, they should get to Naboo the most direct route, right through some unstable asteroid fields and uninhibited moons that Poe knows for  _ certain  _ the First Order have commandeered as space stations at one point or another. Presently, they’re just ticking time bombs.

If they risk themselves out in the open now, and get shot down by dark sith ideologists, it would just prove to everyone that the galaxy is not, indeed, safe yet. 

Taking a glance at the map, Poe sees a dozen and more safer routes for their mission. A hundred ways of dodging possible hostilities, keeping out of danger. A retrieval mission for food and clothes and other basic necessities needs a ship large enough to accomodate a proper crew and the upcoming cargo. Not guns and missiles for possible engage with the enemy.

It’s just - Too risky. Especially since everyone else is still trying to rebuild. There would be no backup. No help coming if things got frisky.

''Look,'' Poe says with surprising patience, noting how tight Finn's lips go, ''I understand what you're trying to say. You want to lead the example, you want us to be the one to show there's no danger anymore - ''

''So you finally agree,'' Rose says in forceful cheer, dropping the pen lazily on the table. ''Good! Then we can at last get into other - ''

''No,'' Poe grits out, pinching the bridge of his nose. ''I said I  _ understand _ , not that I agree. But I'm saying I'm not putting my crew, my friends, into blatant danger by letting them fly by enemy bases we still haven’t checked. I know you want to make the planets more assured of our victory. But we cannot do it by potentially sacrificing our own people.''

''If you're that worried about possible fight breaking out, then how about we just put a couple X-wings to guard the ship?'' Finn says. His arms are crossed over his chest, his shoulders hunched. ''That way we have everyone's safety guaranteed and we can still get straight to Naboo, without, you know, doing any complex maneuvers. Efficiently using less time and fuel, which we don’t really have to begin with.''

''And you think that a cargo ship flagged with Resistance symbols flying through Mid Rim isn’t suspicious at all, if it’s being guarded by X-wings?'' Poe says incredulously. It's like they're running in circles, for kriff’s sake. 

''We can't just keep hiding all the time!'' Finn argues.

''We're not  _ hiding _ ,'' Poe says in exasperation. ''We're making sure we get to keep the people we have left, alive. Everyone's rebuilding, the  _ entire system _ is vulnerable. If the First Order, whatever is left of it, takes down more of Resistance fighters, they’ll start to think they have the upper hand. And if they think they’re getting the best of us, they’ll gain confidence. They’ll start invading other systems again, creating a new order, a new blood path to engage in.''

''Oh, so what, now you’re saying we don’t care about our friends? Of their safety?'' Rose butts angrily in. ''Is that how little you think of us?’’

''No!'' Poe shouts, ready to strangle someone. He jabs a finger towards Rose. ''That's  _ not  _ it, stop putting words in my mouth - ‘’

Rose continues, uncaring of his vehement argument, still too hurt to stop herself, ‘’ Because I remember  _ someone _ , who  _ very recently, _ led his pilots into a goddamn suicide mission, even as the General told you to get back to base! Someone who let almost all of our friends  _ die _ .!''

Poe steps back as if slapped. His mutiny still weighs him down heavily. If Lieutenant Holdo had just shared her information with him, trusted him, all of that would never have happened. But just as quick as the hurt bubbled up, rage flames his heart. ‘’Like you have  _ any  _ ground to accuse me of not following orders, because I remember someone - ‘’

‘’Well,  _ my  _ intentions were good!’’

Poe wants to scream. ‘’So were mine! If Holdo had just  _ talked  _ to me - ‘’

‘’Guys, guys, please, come on,’’ Finn cajoles. ‘’Let’s not fight about this, okay? We’ve all made some mistakes in the past. But we can hardly change that, alright? Come on.’’

Rose turns away with a scowl.

With a sigh, Finn implores Poe. ‘’Please, Poe. Can we get through just one meeting without a fight breaking out?’’

‘’What, am I solely responsible for every single argument we’ve had now? Is that what you’re saying?’’ Poe grits, swallowing past the lump in his throat. 

‘’Well, I mean, kinda  _ yeah _ . What is with you?’’ Finn asks in frustration, standing up so fast his chair skids away from him. ‘’After the freakin sand pits of Pasaana, you’ve been nothing but in a bad mood. It’s impossible to hold a conversation with you without it resulting into a some sort of argument or a fight.’’

There’s a freefalling moment where Poe feels absolutely nothing. The simple, frustration layered accusation punches through him, chilling him to the bone.

Is that how Finn sees him now? He feels desperate. Fiery with hurt. Does he  _ not know _ how hard Poe is  _ trying _ ? 

Is this when it all finally comes crumbling down?

If he isn’t wholly throwing himself into rebuilding the Resistance, completely blocking out his own emotions, he’s going to kriffing  _ drown  _ in them. At night when he closes his eyes, all he sees is Kylo Ren forcing himself into Poe’s mind, digging, carving a dark, hateful little thing into his brain. Or his friends being blown out of the sky, or Finn being taken by First Order allies and being reconditioned into a mindless stormtrooper. Of BB-8 being taken and dissected, part by part while Poe just screams and screams and  _ screams _ . 

Leia’s death left such heavy responsibility on his already weighed down shoulders, and he’s just - He’s just so  _ lost _ . He wasn't ready to be a General, let alone becoming one because Leia  _ died _ . She’s  _ gone  _ and she’s not coming back when Poe so desperately needs her and he’s so  _ angry  _ about that. He thought he had more time. More guidance. 

All he’s left with, is the feeling of being unworthy in the eyes of his friends. Undeserving flyboy who apparently cannot hold one conversation without sounding angry.

Kriff, he’s just so  _ tired _ . If he could just lie down for a while. Just for a single night, catch some real sleep, instead of jerking himself awake every thirty minutes.

Instead, he straightens his own posture, baring his teeth. ''Oh, are we talking about that now? About all those pesky little secrets we kept from each other when we were  _ dying _ . Huh? Those secrets?''

''Oh,'' Finn intones cruelly, mouth stretched unhappily. ''Oh, sure, sure, we're talking about  _ those  _ secrets. Mm-hm. And then we'll continue to your little spice runner days, am I right? The vital information of life-endangering hostilities that we came face to face in Kijimi that would've been quite kriffing helpful to know before we landed into the damn system!''

Bristling, Poe takes the closest thing near his hand, which happens to be a mug of water he’s been sipping, and throws the water in Finn’s face. Finn's expression would be hilarious if Poe wasn't so furious. 

''I am not ready to talk about that, and you know it. You  _ respected  _ it the last time it came up,'' he hisses. ''It was a kriffing undercover op for the Republic and if you're  _ this  _ insistent on getting me to agree on this hairbrained, idiotic plan of yours, then go the kriff ahead. Fly straight into certain death for all I care. But you're for damn sure not getting any of Black Squadron or any other pilot to guard this stupid-ass plan. And that's  _ final _ ,'' he snarls, before turning on his heel and storming out into the quiet hallway. The door bangs shut with a loud rattle, the lock system turning from green to red. 

He wishes the bang gave him any sort of satisfaction. Anything to cover up the utter misery lodged deep into his chest. 

For a moment, he stays right there, leaning against the sturdy door, waiting for either of his friends to come out after him. To mend things up. Apologize, maybe, letting Poe say he’s sorry too. To say,  _ ‘I know we fought over this stupid little thing, and it escalated, and I’m sorry. Are we good? Please let us be good.’  _

Because that’s what friends do, right? Come after one another to reconcile, if things are left raw and upset. That’s how he operates. That’s what he  _ does  _ when his friends get upset and storm out.

The air in the hallway is fresher than the stuffy conference room, the base silent and drowsy in its slumber. Breathing in and out, he counts to ten. To twenty. To thirty and forty.

_ Finn isn’t coming. _

Straightening up, he violently squashes down the hurt and disappointment, starting off towards the sleeping quarters. He carries the feeling right into his room, rubbing his hands over his aching heart. 

The First Order may be won. But somehow he and Finn have only just entered a personal battleground, vicious and brutal. Nothing makes sense, just a jumbled, sick mess that they cannot talk through.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Poe numbly sits down on his bed and thinks that, perhaps this crushing grief is just meant to be his future. Does he deserve it? Just as true peace and happiness is within his grasp, they are yanked away with a cruel laughter of fate.

Or, and this thought he entertains only in the darkest of his hearts, delicately cupping the deepest of his fears;  _ maybe he never even left the Finalizer. _ Maybe all this time, he’s been locked in that godawful cell as Kylo Ren tortures him for hours on end, and this is the only escape his mind can create.

He closes his eyes. That thought is far more kinder, than the genuine thought of Finn's hatred and disdain for him.

Slumping into his bed, he tosses his blanket over his head, engulfing him in darkness. Sleep continues to evade him.

  
  


***

  
  
  


A couple hours later the door to Poe's quarters bursts open, making him scramble up in alarm. He hadn't expected anyone since he made his departure from the conference room. Especially since the entire base had been put in lockdown due to the tropical storm not long after his exit. He was certain everyone was taking the downtime to finally eat and sleep.

Pushing himself into a sitting position, he sees BB-8 careening in at top speed, beeping frantically at him. 

''Hey, hey, buddy, slow down,'' he soothes, coming down to his knees to meet the droid. His hands come to gently pet BB. ''Easy. I can't make out any words when you blubber so fast. What's wrong?''

_ [Designation: Friend-Jessika sending MAYDAY. Location acquired. Help requested immediately. Medical staff to be alerted.] _

''Whoah, what?'' he shakes his head, frowning in confusion. ''Jess is in trouble? Weren't they just meant to patrol the area with Yellow Squadron and come back? I mean, that was. . . That was hours ago. They should've been back by now.''

_ [Designation: Friend-Jessika's crew obscured by the drastic changes in system climate. X-wing down. MAYDAY.]  _

''They're still out there?'' Poe exclaims incredulously. He cranes his neck to look out the window. The wind is blowing hard enough that the trees are almost horizontal, the darkness swallowing the surrounding nature where the lights of the base do not reach.

It would be near suicide to gather up a squadron and operate a rescue op. Just conducting a ground search would be fruitless in the near dark wilderness. Or better yet, try and manage to fly against the hurricane. They would need a very experienced pilot for that.

(Or a very rash one.)

Grim-faced, Poe stands up. Regardless of the weather outside, he cannot leave Jess in trouble. Or her crew. If he lost Pava, he’s not sure he could overcome that grief. Mourning for one family member is devastating enough.

So he needs to get his ass in gear and get out there. There’s not many that could survive flying a ship in these conditions, and the only people apart from him, who would be any worth as candidates, are at the moment out of the system in other missions.

Gods, he’s tired. Rubbing his hands up and down his face, Poe lets out a long sigh. Immerses himself into the silence of his quarters, just for a minute. Lets himself have this single moment of weakness.

Then, he squares his shoulders up and looks at his droid. ''Alright. Buddy, I need you to roll into the medbay as fast as you can and alert Doctor Kalonia. We don’t know in what condition the pilots are, but it’s better to be prepared for the worst. Then I want you to get to the comm room and alert all the commanding officers still awake that there’s a squadron still out there, and that they’re in need of a rescue. I'm taking Black One out for a spin, see if I can locate the crash site. Can you send the coordinates to Black One?''

_ [Designation: Partner-Poe will attempt rescue alone? It is dangerous. Designation: Partner-Poe must stay safe.] _

Patting BB-8's head, Poe nods. ''I'll make sure to come back with Jess and her crew. They won't last long in a weather like this if they've got injured on board.'' He looks at the droid seriously. ''You trust me to come back to you, bud?''

_ [I always trust Designation: Partner-Poe to come back.] _

Smiling despite himself, Poe pushes his hair back. The adrenaline, the thrill of getting back into the thick of things is already coursing through his veins. _ This _ he can do. This is the one thing he will always be the best at. ''Atta boy. Now come on. Captain Pava needs her knight in a shining armour. Though, don’t tell her I said that. I’ll be giving her so much shit for this.''

BB-8 chirps happily.

_ [I will not tell her, Designation: Partner-Poe.] _

''Thanks bud,'' Poe grins, dressing quickly into his flight suit and taking off towards the tarmac. He's not losing a single friend tonight. Not if he can help it.

  
  
  


***

  
  


Finn rests his head against his arms. He's still sitting at the kriffing conference table, limbs spread out in exhaustion. His face and his clothes have dried up, but his eyes are still a little misty. 

Rose is feeding the data they’ve decided on into the system, her face reflecting her foul mood.

Since Poe's exit, there had been less arguments, but they also couldn't decide on too many issues without their friend’s output. The pilot's experience and knowledge far surpasses theirs, making the two of them rather timid to make any concrete plans. 

_ Your confidence will grow in time, _ Poe has said once, grinning widely.  _ You’ll yet get the hang of it. _

Finn was also wallowing. In regret. Anger too, but mostly just regret. 

He shouldn't have said what he said. It was a rather bad helmet stealing, or as the people in Resistance say, a blow below the belt. He and Poe had hashed things out in the past. Namely on the spice runner issue. Jess had hinted, later on, that someone important to Poe had died on that cover op, and that Finn shouldn't push on the issue.

Really. Finn wouldn't have, if Poe wasn't just so – So . . .  _ Frustrating _ . So utterly  _ infuriating  _ with his quick to anger. The bubbly, happy pilot had dimmed beneath the weight of the war, and the death of Leia had more than doubled Poe's responsibilities. Sometimes the purple circles under his friend’s eyes are competing in blackness with Black One.

And that’s saying something.

And it’s not like anyone else isn’t tired. Because they all are. Running on nothing but fumes and kaf, working themselves to the ground. Finn feels like he’s aged a hundred years in the past two. He really could do with a 72 hour nap. The whole base could.

But they can’t. Too much to do, too many things still unresolved, needing to be fixed.

And so, here they are. Arguing uselessly over something so very basic and insignificant. And honestly, Finn wouldn't have pushed the spice runner issue, but kriff. Poe stuck his finger in Finn’s own guilt, and his first reaction was to go on defence. He still hadn't told Poe about his own secret. The one that seems to be the very root of their sudden distance.

He's just – He's just so utterly scared of Poe's reaction. The pilot is already so wary of Rey, his fear of her had almost choked Finn back when she had made the stormtroopers do her bidding. The pilot's high-pitched, quivering words still haunt his nightmares sometimes.

_ ''Does she do that to us?'' _

_ No _ , Finn thinks miserably,  _ she doesn't do that to us _ . But Poe's fear was there. Still sometimes  _ is  _ there. And Finn would rather go back to  _ Jakku  _ than have his co-general be afraid of him. 

''Okay,'' Rose says, standing up. ''Just one more thing to go through and then we can finally get to bed. General Grumpy can sort the rest out tomorrow morning.''

Groaning, Finn stands up, stretching his legs. The storm still rages outside, rattling the transparisteel. With a sigh, he leans on the window, staring at the swirling hurricane. ''Let's hear it.''

As Rose starts detailing their storage space for clothes, Finn lets her words gently lull him into a slight trance. The dark nature around the base seems like an endless void, deep and unfathomable. He pities the poor creatures no doubt trying to find shelter, huddling for warmth somewhere.

The tarmac is still lit up by lights, and all kinds of belongings are swirling around the ground. Loose goods are getting trashed and lost. All the ships are thankfully locked up in the hangar. 

A slight movement from the side of the building catches his eye. Glancing over, he sees a humanoid braving through the tarmac.

‘’What the -'' Finn murmurs, trying to get a closer look. ‘’Is there really someone out there in this hurricane or am I just hallucinating this? I don’t think, I mean, I’m not  _ that  _ tired.’’

''What?''

''There,'' Finn nods towards the person almost futilely forcing their way through the tarmac. The wind is strong, and the humanoid is very small compared to the debris being ripped around. ''Someone's trying to get into the hangar.''

Rose comes to stand right by him, squinting into the darkness. The humanoid manages to get inside, the entire co-building suddenly being lit up.

''What are they doing?'' Finn mutters.

Rose makes a face. ''Uhh, your guess is as good as mine.’’

‘’I don’t really have a guess,’’ he says honestly.

Rose shrugs. ‘’Maybe someone is trying to get some work done on their ship? I mean, depending how long this storm lasts, there’s gonna be a lot of downtime for pilots and ground troops. Only officials like us are gonna be kept busy.''

‘’I would use that downtime to sleep.’’

‘’You and every single resistance member,’’ Rose says, offering a tiny grin. ‘’Except, you know. That guy.’’

They stand there for a moment, contemplating. Then, just as they're about to get back into business, convinced that the person is staying inside and not braving their ship out into the weather, the big hangar doors open. Light spills into the dark tarmac as the person gets out, securing the giant doors onto both sides of the building.

''What?'' Finn gapes. ''Is someone seriously about to fly – Wait, wait,  _ wait  _ \- ''

Dread fills his guts.

All too familiar Black One rolls out.

''No,'' Finn chokes. ''That kriffing son of a wookie is not seriously thinking of taking his kriffing stupid-ass X-wing onto a spin in a weather like this. He is  _ not _ . Kriffing hell!''

Rose winces. ''Is it really Poe though? He loves that ship. He wouldn't risk damaging it in such conditions.''

''Who else is it supposed to be?'' Finn grits, banging his hand against the window. ''I'm serious, if that turns out to be Poe, I'm gonna kriffing kill - ''

BB-8 bursts in, the white and orange droid beeping at them frantically. 

Finn meets Rose's eyes with a dead  _ 'I told you so'. _

''BB-8, that doesn't happen to be your fool of a master that's in that goddamn cockpit?''

BB rolls to Finn, heeding Poe's wishes from earlier and slowing his speech.

_ [Designation: Partner-Poe on rescue op to Designation: Friend-Jessika. MAYDAY. Medical staff informed.] _

''Man, I really need to start learning binary,'' Finn mutters. 

''BB is saying that Poe's on his way to, uh, can you, uh, can you say that again?'' Rose asks. 

BB-8 repeats the message. 

''Oh! Commander Pava has run into some trouble, I guess? Poe's on his way to rescue her team from somewhere,'' Rose translates. Finn recoils. 

'' _ A rescue op _ ? But, Commander Pava and her squad were only supposed to do a regular patrol. Like. Hours ago.''

_ [Designation: Friend-Jessika was obscured by the sudden changes in climate. All down. No further information.] _

Rose frowns. ''They crashed, I think? Because of the sudden storm. Couldn't get back in time. Or that's what I think he's saying.''

''Kriff,'' Finn swears, suddenly turning back to the tarmac where the pilot was supposed to take off. ''Is he - ''

Black One has taken off, but seems to have trouble flying against the wind. It’s hovering over the tarmac bay, unsteady. Like it’s taking all of Poe’s efforts to even keep the damn ship up in the air.

Finn takes one look at the situation and grabs Rose by her hand. ‘’We can’t stop him from taking off,’’ he says, steering her towards the communications room. ''But we can at least have his six, should he run into any trouble. Come on, BB-8. We gotta get a connection to Black Leader.’’

Rose complies easily, coming where he steers her. She hasn't been very fond of Poe as of late, with his quick fuse, but her own temper has not helped any, so she thinks Poe might think the exact same of her. ''Just, um. Just don't fight when we comm him, okay? He needs to stay focused on flying and not, uh, bickering with you,'' she says carefully. ''Um. No offense.''

The rigid lines on Finn's shoulders tighten just a fraction before he deflates. ''I know,'' he says quietly. ''I wasn't going to.''

Rose nods. ''Good. That's. Good.''

_ [Designation: Partner-Poe is the best pilot in the galaxy. Worry not.] _

Snorting, she nods to the droid. ''He'll be fine. If anyone could pull this off, it's General Dameron.''

''Damn right,'' Finn agrees.

  
  
  


***

  
  


Poe feels like he's been put into one of those industry operated washing machines and left on spin cycle. Keeping the plane steady is nigh impossible. The hurricane is mauling him everywhere, rattling and shaking Black One in its entirety. Rain whips against the transparisteel of his cockpit, downing visibility to almost zero, even with headlights on.

He already knows he's going to be black and blue with bruises after he lands.

He can barely hear the engine from the rage howling of the wind. He's afraid of getting too close to the ground in case he crashes into some trees he can’t see, but he needs to be at least in low altitude for the GPS to keep him on track. Never mind that the higher he goes, the more vicious the wind gets, and staying lower ups his chances of survival. 

He regrets a little for not taking BB-8 with him as co-pilot. Being unable to land will undoubtedly complicate the load-up, and BB would’ve been instrumental at keeping the ship level, should Poe’s hands be occupied otherwise. Especially if someone's injured. Or worse.

Luckily enough, Pava's location was close to the base. His navigator shows a body of water right where the crash site is. Hoping to force that nobody is actually in the raging sea, he grits his teeth and pushes his X-wing through the worst of it. 

As he concentrates on keeping the X-wing somewhat level, and on course, he misses the green light of the panel indicating a comm from the central.

It takes him thirty minutes to finally arrive. On a clear, sunny day, it would have taken him one third of the time. It’s ridiculous. He’s sweating buckets just trying not to be blwon away by the seething winds. His bones feel like jelly, after all the bumping and rattling, a different experience from the smooth vacuum of space.

‘’Kriff,’’ he mutters, trying to see anything. Anything at all. The black sea swallows up the meager headlights he’s got on, the hurricane more violent here, punching his ship around. 

The GPS tells him there is rock and sand all around him, the woods starting further up the beach. He’d love to land for a moment, to gather himself and his thoughts, perhaps formulate a plan of somesort, but he can’t. If Jessika hears him, she’ll most likely try to send some kind of signal. And he can’t be on the ground for that. He needs to be airborne to actually  _ see _ .

The worst part is trying to actually locate someone without really seeing where he’s going, without crashing his X-Wing.  _ Then  _ what a pair they would make.

So he settles for now for just flying in circles over the coordinates BB-8 gave him. The thrum of the sea is almost deafening. A vast, tremulous pit of darkness.

_ A raging sea is the embrace of death for all pilots _ , Muran’s voice whispers in his ear. He shakes his head to dispel it.

‘’Come on, Pava,’’ he mutters, glancing away from the water. If any of the squadron found themselves in that precarious situation, Poe is absolutely too late to save them. The currents are deadly on their own, let alone adding colossal waves into the mix. . . 

Not letting despair fill him, Poe looks towards the shore. Jessika is resourceful. She would stay close by, but somewhere a little sheltered. There’s gotta be -

A flash of light pushes into his field of vision, just a little further up the waterline.  _ An emergency flare! _

‘’Shit Pava!’’ Poe cheers in relief, steering towards the light. ‘’You are one banthafucking  _ captain _ . Force, I hope you’ve got your squadron safe.’’

As he creeps closer, he can finally make out four X-Wings on the shore. One of them is absolutely crushed, and it’s slowly being dragged into the waves. Poe winces. ‘’That’s - Yeah, that doesn’t bode too well.’’

Another flare lights up the sky and everything around it. Four shapes are accounted for, standing near the wreckage of their ships, waving their hands desperately. Poe takes his comm and activates it. ‘’This is Black Leader. I see you, all four of you. Good to see you Captain Pava, Yellow Squadron.’’

A burst of harsh wind forces him to use both of his hands to keep the ship steady. The storm is getting worse. They’re about to run out of time. ‘’I’m really sorry but I can’t land in this condition. We’d never get back into the air again. So I need you to get onto higher ground. I can barely manage keeping Black One stable, so I can’t help you get in. Just, get onto somewhere high and let out another flare of light. I’ll come pick you up. You’ll have to jump. Understood?’’

Who he thinks is Jessika gives him a big thumbs up, before ushering her squadron further up the shore. When he’d flown in, he’d seen the great standing rocks not too far. If Jessika was to take them there, it would certainly be easiest to just jump from high and drop into the cockpit.

Which makes Poe halt. Black One is magnificent in its entirety, but big she is not. The cockpit is meant for a single person. To stuff it so full it accommodates  _ five  _ people. . . 

Grimacing a little, he thinks he might not have thought this plan through. Well. He didn’t really  _ have  _ a plan to begin with, apart from getting to the crash site as soon as possible. One makes one's bed, so one lies in it.

Focusing back into flying, Poe diligently follows Jess as she and her crew painstakingly make their way to the outcrop. More than once, he loses sight of them. He viciously hates this darkness. For that only, he thinks he’d never have been able to become a good servant to the First Order. He thrives in light, seeks it, always trying to face it. 

Even if the war has changed him, fundamentally, inexplicably, creating a burrowed grief so devastating and all consuming into his heart, he’d still never, ever, serve the Sith or the dark side of the Force. He doesn’t want  _ revenge  _ as much as he wants  _ peace _ .

He is a child of the sun, of earth and flora and stars. He yearns for the feel of sunshine on his skin, grass underneath his fingertips. Heart calling out to the warmth whenever he’s stuck on base for too long. A child born in Yavin IV, his ancestors of light always protecting him.

Hoth was horrible enough. Cold and grey and miserable. Just thinking of Exegol and it’s murky pit of hooded siths makes him shudder.

A big wave licks at his ship as it bursts from the sea. Poe startles, and realizes he’s veered way off course. ‘’Aw, crap, crap, crap.’’

With a groan, he knows he’s lost the sight of Pava. Somehow he slipped too far into the open sea. He has no choice but to steer Black One near the cliff he deems safe enough, and tries to keep himself far away enough from the rocks, so he won’t crash should a powerful force of wind catch him. But also near enough that Jessika will see where she’s supposed to lead her squadron.

He settles in for the long haul.

The waiting is horrible. His arms had tired already on the way here. Now it feels like all his muscles have turned to mush. An aching, trembling pile of mush. Force, he would let himself be grounded for a week if he could just catch some shut-eye at some point.

He hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep in months, both his body and his brain lagging. Food tastes like ash in his mouth, his weight quietly, deceptively dropping. 

He knows he’s not alright, not by any means. But he can’t do anything about it. He can’t just take a day off and leave poor Finn and Rose all alone to represent the Resistance. All the other commanding officers like Lieutenant Wexley are off-world, doing their own hard work in creating bases, helping to rebuild. 

He sighs deeply. Numbly taps his fingers, staying vigilant of his surroundings. 

Fighting with Finn is probably what weighs him down the most. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for the man. If a First Order firing squad was to descend on them today to try and kill Finn, Poe would only let them past him over his dead body. And he thinks Finn would share his sentiment in reverse. 

And yet somehow neither of them have offered a kind word for each other for over a week. 

It’s not like Poe doesn’t  _ try _ . God, does he try. But every time he’s ready to apologize, to mend things between them, he remembers just exactly how Finn truly sees him. How apparently Poe does not understand what Finn, and in extension, Rey, are going through.

_ ‘’Well, I’m not Leia!’’ _

_ ‘’That’s for damn sure.’’ _

And then the words die on his lips, the glimmer of hope dimming as it’s dosed out. He sees Finn out there with others. How he offers hugs and words of comfort easily, doling out smiles brighter than the sun to anyone, to everyone.

Except Poe.

His chest hurts. A thick, uncomfortable  _ something  _ lodged in his throat. ‘’I’m not Leia,’’ he mutters thickly. ‘’Not good enough. Never good enough.’’

He lets out a ragged breath. It’s idiotic, to define his own self-worth from someone else’s opinion. The entire base is still great friends with Poe, he’s still got most of the original Black Squadron left. Snap is gone, but he’s still got Pava, Iolo, Kare, Wedge Antilles. Bastian. He has friends who care about him, who  _ love  _ him. 

Especially the army of droids on base. Poe would adopt them all, would they care for such things.

And still, still it matters to him how Finn sees him. How Finn seems to  _ hate  _ him now.

If Leia just were here, if he had never been forced to take the mantle of the general, then. . . Then he’d still be a pilot, still know his place in the galaxy, be free of this bantha fucking political bullshit. He doesn’t understand how Leia could so easily navigate the political terrain. How she didn’t just jump into an X-Wing and blow those cockup idiots to bits.

Force, he misses her so much.

Glancing at the GPS to ward off his grief, he catches a sight of the clock. He’s been out here for almost an hour and a half. He’s still got fuel, which is brilliant news, but with the powerful weather, he’s not sure he’ll be able to stay for much longer. They’ve yet to have hit the peak, and Poe has some experience with tropical storms. This is still mild for what it could spiral into in parsecs.

‘’Come on, Pava. . . We need to get out of here,’’ he mutters. And lo and behold, just as he finishes his thought, a bright flash of flight bursts further up the cliff. 

Grinning widely, Poe starts his ship upwards. All four of Yellow Squadron are still present, more or less unharmed. Drenched, cold, and unhappy, but essentially fine.

Pushing past his own exhaustion and discomfort, Poe unlocks the windshield of his cockpit, letting it pull up. He comes as close to the rocks as he dares, and then yells, ‘’I can’t come any closer! You have to jump!’’

For a moment, there’s no response. Poe squints upwards against the rain, but it’s hard enough that he doesn’t really see anything. 

‘’Are you ready, Poe?’’ Jess shouts, a vague shape appearing in his field of vision. Tightening his muscles, Poe readies himself for the new weight that’s undoubtedly about to shake his ship.

‘’Ready!’’ he shouts back.

Again, there is a moment of stillness, before Jessika’s slim figure drops onto his dashboard.

‘’Fucking, damnit,’’ she snarls angrily, banging her body on everything she reaches. Her leg bangs on Poe’s arm as she tries to settle backwards into the cockpit, jarring them both. ‘’This fucking sucks Jabba’s balls.’’

Unable to help her gain her footing, Poe tries to keep Black One from tipping over. ‘’Come on, Pava!’’ he grits his teeth. His arms has become thankfully numb, so the hit doesn’t register much.

‘’Ajulo’s injured,’’ Jess shouts, finally squeezing herself into a tiny gap beside Poe's chair. She’s panting, a tired, drenched little wampa. ‘’She’ll need a hand once she jumps. The bonnet’s slippery as fuck. If she does one wrong move, she’ll fall.’’

‘’She’ll have to jump in last,’’ Poe answers. ‘’She’ll have better chances with more pairs of hands.’’

Jessika nods briskly. ‘’Ready for another one?’’

‘’Not really, but we really gotta get out of here.’’

‘’Lash’imi! In ten!’’ she shouts, gripping onto the straps of his chair. She counts to ten, trembling when another huge wave hits the ship, making Poe grabble for control. He barely gains it, when the other pilot rocks the X-Wing again.

Lash’imi is sturdy and heavy with muscle, Black One dropping in altitude as she gets in. Her aim is just a little better than Pava’s, and she falls right into Poe’s lap. He lets out an ‘oof’ as she lands, letting go of the controls as he steadies her.

They immediately nosedive into the deep waters.

‘’Fuck, Dameron!’’ Jess shouts, lunging for the stick. Without a thought, he follows her, letting his arms embrace Lash’imi as he does so. The younger pilot lets out a little scream as they start to plummet down, but grabs for Jessika as they descend, not letting her fall off.

It’s a terrifying few minutes as Black One fights against the strong hurricane, her wings opening and closing fruitlessly with gravity closing in on them. ‘’Lash’imi, I need you to move, I can’t pull back!’’

‘’I can’t, I can’t! I can’t move!’’

‘’Yes, you can! You have to, buddy. You won’t fall off, I promise. I need to you to move!’’

In an impossible maneuver, the pilot manages to painstakingly pull herself to the side, opposite from her captain. With now more free space to operate, Poe gathers all of his strength and pulls the controls back in a fluid, entire body compassing move. ‘’Come on!’’ he shouts, pulling and pulling and  _ pulling  _ as the  _ surface of the water closes in  _ \- 

A woosh, and then they’re in the air again. 

‘’Wohoo!’’ Jess screams, ‘’That’s my commander!’’

Relief floods in Poe’s system. That was a truly close call. But they’re not out of the woods yet. ‘’Still got two more,’’ he reminds her grimly. ‘’I think I’m gonna have to strap you in to keep the ship level, as me and Lash’imi and Mekelo grab for Ajulo. You good with that?’’ _ Do you have our six? _

Pava nods grimly. ‘’Can I complain later how your fine tunes on this ship are shit for any other pilot?’’

Despite himself, Poe laughs. ‘’Yeah, yeah you can. She leans more left, because that’s my weaker side.’’

‘’I know, commander,’’ Jess grins, her wet hair sticking to her forehead. ‘’Now come on. Two more black beauties to rescue.’’

‘’Aye, can’t leave such treasures here, all by themselves. Risky, risky.’’

Lash’imi, who has been trembling quietly on his left, smiles tremulously. ‘’The whole Yellow Squadron is full of black excellence.’’

‘’Undisputable,’’ Poe nods in agreement. He veers them back up to the cliff where two more figures are huddling together. 

‘’Mekelo! You’re next!’’ Pava shouts. Poe grimaces in advance, thinking of Mekelo’s slender but tall figure. Poor thing is gonna have a real rough ride back home, cramped in.

Her jump is much more graceful than her predecessors, but the bonnet is slick with water. She lands on the bow of Black One, not close enough to the cockpit, and slips.

‘’Mekelo!’’ Jess shouts, reaching out her hand. The bow of Black One is sleek and polished, nothing to hang onto as Poe yet again tries to level the X-Wing. All of them are pressing their weights to the front now, Pava and Lash’imi reaching for their friend - 

For a single moment, everything slows down.The rain stops and the sea quiets, the two women moving only parsec by parsec. Poe can see how the ship is about to tilt forward, and Mekelo will plunge into the deep, deadly embrace of the sea. 

Seconds tick by and then everything speeds back up. Poe roars as he pulls with all his might the nose of Black One up to the sky. The maneuver is sudden, and jarring, gravity forcing everyone not strapped in to bang against the sides of the cockpit. Mekelo slides right in, nosediving right into Poe’s chest.

‘’Shit, Dameron!’’ she hisses, bringing her arms to hug him. ‘’You almost killed me!’’

Grinning shakily, Poe shakes his head. ‘’Nah, I think I just saved you buddy. That’s four saves up my tally!’’

‘’Fuck your tally, you crazy man,’’ Mekelo says, but she squeezes him gratefully. ‘’You’re already leading the entire thing with your self-sacrificing attitude, who’s gonna care about four more sticks under your name?’’

‘’Me, when I cash all those favors in,’’ he responds cheekily, patting her back. ‘’Now come on. We’ve still got one pilot missing, and if I’m completely honest with you guys, I’m drenched, tired and hungry, and ready to get back to base for some shut-eye.’’

Jess snorts. ‘’Who the fuck isn’t?’’ But his words have hit home, so Mekelo clambers off his lap, finds her place next to her captain where she grabs on tight to Poe’s straps again.

The waves are already hitting higher and higher. Ajulo has climbed further up the rocks to prevent herself from getting swept in. Poe adjusts the altitude, doing a quick check up on the engine. Revs it for a moment just to see it hasn’t taken any water in, and then tests the controls. All go.

‘’Okay, Jess,’’ he says, unbuckling the straps. ‘’I need you to take control.’’

Pava slides in his place as he scrambles up, keeping his hands on the stick. Her face is grim. ‘’You good?’’ he asks, just to make sure. 

‘’I’m not the pilot you are, but I’ll manage,’’ she says, slipping her hands on top of his. They’re trembling. ‘’Just get Ajulo in so we can go home.’’

Letting go of the controls, the ship rocks unsteadily as Jess combats for level. She finds it, but she fights hard against the power of nature. Poe buckles her in. Drops a kiss on top of her wet forehead. ‘’This is where it gets tricky,’’ he instructs. ‘’When Ajulo jumps in, you’ll be gaining unexpected weight. Black One can’t stabilize that on her own, not in a weather like this. So you have to use all the core strength you have to keep us from plummeting down. Okay?’’

She nods.

‘’Wait for Ajulo to sit before we switch places. You can close the cockpit once she’s inside, but you can’t maneuver us away from the sea before we’ve secured her injuries. We clear?’’

‘’All clear, Commander.’’

‘’Alright. Let’s get ready.’’ Poe huffs out a breath, trying to keep balanced. He looks at the two younger pilots. ‘’Once you see Ajulo coming down, I need both of you to be ready to receive her. I’ll try to take the brunt of her weight, but since we’re already this cramped, you’ll be securing her enough that she won’t accidentally fall off. Okay?’’

Both give their assent. Poe stretches his neck. ‘’Okay. Okay. Pava, steady the ship in ten.’’ He cups his hands over his mouth and shouts, ‘’Ajulo! In ten!’’

Counting to ten in his mind, Poe stretches his arms upwards in two. He looks up and sees Ajulo falling fast. Lash’imi and Mekelo are standby - 

The ship swings suddenly left as a powerful wave hits its side. ‘’Pava!’’ Poe barks, and then, ‘’Shit shit shit - ‘’ 

Ajulo misses the X-Wing. Poe manages to push himself out enough that his hands grab onto hers, but he’s not secured onto anything. His front bangs into Black One’s side, his soft stomach cutting against the rail. He claws for balance. She’s slick with rainwater, her grip slipping. 

‘’Hold on!’’ Poe shouts, desperately trying to reorient his grip enough so he could clasp her arms instead of her hands.

Mekelo and Lash’imi suddenly rush to his side, reaching out to Ajulo. They thankfully clutch her from her arms, the cuffs of her flight suit, helping Poe adjust his hold. The three of them should easily heave her up. For a moment, he thinks they’re out of the woods.

And then the ship starts to tilt dangerously from their combined weight to the side and Ajulo lurches slightly back out.

‘’Pava!’’ he shouts, despairing, as his cold, numb hands cannot hold onto Ajulo any longer. Mekelo’s and Lash’imi’s arms have entangled with each other as they’re grabbing onto Ajulo’s clothes, clutching and clawing her into the ship. He pulls her upwards, leaving long welts of his fingernails on her skin, even as his grasp of her slips and slips and  _ slips _ .

Alas, Ajulo refuses to be helpless. Injured and panicked, her self-preservation instincts kick in. She uses Poe’s arms as leverage to pull herself up, tugging with all her might, at the same time, pulling him out of the ship. The boost of gravity helps, as she finally drops in an ungraceful heap on top of the other pilots. 

Poe feels himself falling out. With his whole body he tries to drop onto a wing or catch onto something, but the fuselage is sleek and he has nowhere to grab. He doesn’t make any sound as Black One stabilizes again with his weight off of her.

He plummets down.

_ The raging sea is an embrace of death. _

‘’No - ‘’ he manages, reaching out for the rapidly disappearing ship.  _ ‘’No _ !’’

And then the black, roaring sea swallows him up.

  
  
  


***


End file.
